


dirty socks

by waveydnp



Series: tumblr prompts [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 00:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: prompt: "make me"





	dirty socks

Dan’s no stranger to feeling like… well a stranger. Not so much to other people, but to himself. He feels things keenly, like, way too keenly, all the fucking time. Every emotion that crosses his brain seems to turned up the full volume all the time, even if it’s something the logical part of his mind knows is just… not that fucking serious. And for some reason it’s still always a surprise. Because he really doesn’t know himself at all. 

Like now, for instance. Should he really be feeling anxiety to the point of tears because Phil’s left a pair of socks on the coffee table in the lounge and a mug half full of cold coffee on the bathroom counter? Is that a logical response?

Probably not, but it would seem he’s having it anyway. 

So that’s a new thing he’s learning, and he can thank Phil for teaching it to him: he really, _really_ doesn’t like mess. Even something as innocuous as misplaced socks.

He could pick them up himself. It wouldn’t be a big deal, especially not after all the things Phil has done to make his life immeasurably better. And he won’t admit it to anyone else, but he plans on sharing his living space with Phil for as long as Phil will have him, so it’s probably something he should start developing coping mechanisms for that don’t involve standing rooted to the spot and fuming so intensely he expects smoke to start billowing out all the orifices in his face. 

Probably is the operative word, because he knows right now that it’s not going to happen. He’s not going to be mature and just deal with it himself and talk to Phil about it later like an adult. 

“Phil!” he shouts. Loud.

“What?”

God, that just makes Dan fume harder. He sounds so stupid and oblivious to Dan’s suffering. 

“Come pick up your fucking dirty socks off the coffee table!”

Phil appears a minute later, his face looking just as stupid and oblivious as his voice had sounded. “What?” he says. Stupidly. God, he’s just… so stupid.

“Pick up your socks, cunt.” Harsh. Dan knows it, but he’s boiling over with all that aforementioned abundance of emotion.

Phil crosses his arms over his chest. Not angry, but defiant. Dan already knows he fucked up by saying the dreaded c-word.

“Make me.”

Something inside Dan breaks then, because he genuinely wants to reach out and slap Phil in his stupid face and as soon as he’s had the thought he hates himself with an intensity that’s simply unbearable. His face crumples and he flops down onto the sofa, hugging his legs to his chest and hiding his own stupid face in between his knees. 

He’s crying. He’s bloody crying over a couple of misplaced socks.

“Dan?” He sounds alarmed. Caring. Not stupid at all but wonderful. Angelic in his patience.

The sofa dips and Phil sits down next to him, puts a hand between his shoulder blades and rubs. “What’s wrong?”

Dan shrugs. “I’m insane.”

“No you aren’t.” Phil doesn’t even need to think about it, he just answers right away like the thought is ridiculous. 

“I feel like I am. I’m shouting at you about socks.”

“Oh.” Phil’s hand stills its rubbing. “Is this actually about the socks?” 

Dan sniffles before he nods. 

“It bothers you?” Phil asks.

He nods again. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize I’d done it. I’ll try harder not to.”

Dan’s face is still buried. “You do it a lot. And you leave dirty dishes in weird places.”

“Do I?”

Irritation flares hot in Dan’s chest, but he manages to choke it back. He can recognize that Phil isn’t trying to piss him off. He just genuinely doesn’t care about clutter and things not being in their proper place.

“Yes. You do.”

“And that upsets you?” Phil asks, not a hint of mocking in his tone.

Dan nods miserably. “I guess it does.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” Dan asks incredulously.

“Yeah, ok,” Phil says, his hand rubbing again, this time in smooth broad stroked up and down the length of Dan’s back. “I’ll try harder not to do that.”

“Why am I like this?” Dan mumbles, lifting his head to look at Phil’s face. He swipes a hand over the moisture on his face

Phil shrugs. “It’s fine. Mum says it’s part of learning how to live with someone. Hiccups.”

“You talk to your mum about how psycho I am?”

Phil laughs. “Umm… Maybe a little?”

Dan laughs too. He has to laugh. He thinks there’s a distinct possibility that he really is insane, but at least he gets to be insane with someone who actually cares about him.


End file.
